Lamant of The Thrice Born
by DominusPisces
Summary: When The Death Knight, Ritter Mortuus is ordered to Execute Captives after an assult on the Scarlet Crusade an unexpectant encounter forces him to contemplate his existence. Rated M for Mature Themes, Violence and Death.


**I do not own World of Warcraft (IdnoWoW) and all characters save for Ritter Mortuus and settings are property of Blizzard Entertainment. I do not profit from this story. Please read and review. All constructive Critique welcome! Enjoy!**

**Lament of The Thrice Born:**

**_~ A Special Surprise ~_**

The smell of blood, smoke and the sickening sweet stench of burning flesh permeated even the small wooden room as I entered the prison house and set my helmet on a nearby table. The Chapel of the Crimson Flame burned brightly not even a quarter of a furlong away while the screams of Scarlet Crusaders died as the minions of the Lich King meted justice to the miserable wretches and denied them the life they pathetically clung too so that they could be resurrected into the service of my Master.

I walked among the surviving prisoners. The slow echo of my metal boots off the walls carried over the quiet sobs and whimpers of one of them. As promised, near the table, there was a blood elf, like me, but a woman with red hair that covered her face as she deliberately stared downward. There also was a gnome wench whimpering childishly with a crown of obnoxiously pink curls; I promised myself I'd save her for last. I always hated gnomes. Then there was the bald human man whose look of hatred showed a vicious scar cutting across one blue eye, and a troll male who must have been in rut for the stink that came off his oily skin was unbearable as he trembled half looking like he wanted to charge me, if not for his chains.

Argent Dawn soldiers all. Each wore the black and white tunic with the idiotic sun burst pattern on their chests. They were all dead of course, and they all knew it. The troll was the first to die, since he was the last one I had walked past. I drew my sword and watched the runes along the black blade glow with an unholy ice cold blue light. I narrowed my eyes and as before every killing blow I make I took in a deep breath even though I no longer needed too, and plunged the blade unceremoniously into his side. The troll grunted. I figured since he reeked like a pig, he could die like a stuck-pig. When he collapsed to his side I brought my boot up and then brought it down hard on his neck. I grinned viciously at the satisfying crunch I felt and the loud crack I heard as he convulsed and lay still.

"Monster!" I heard the human cry out. I turned my head to him, hearing the leather in my armor creak and stretch as I turned and walked towards him. The gnome bitch started whimpering louder as I walked past her. I stopped to consider the convenience of how the prisoners were arranged. Males to the north wall, Females to the south. "Back to the Twisting Nether with you, you filth spawn." He said with as much venom in his voice as he could find before spitting in my face. He was glaring at me with pure uninhibited loathing. I must confess I found the hatred in his gaze refreshing in its honesty. I recalled brief flashes of my previous life, of days bogged down in bureaucracy and empty platitudes of court. I detested it all, and human beings were notorious for embodying courtly procedure. I stared down at him as he simply glared back. In the end I rewarded him with a quick death worthy of his honesty. A quick slice of my sword sent his body collapsing to the ground and his head launching behind me.

A sudden cry caused me to turn around with my sword at the ready. It was the gnome again. She had screamed when the head of the human landed right by her. I noticed with much amusement that the hateful stare was frozen on his face. I mused a moment on the idea if it would be frozen still when he was resurrected to fight against his former Argent Dawn allies. I stepped past her. The gnome would be last to die as my own personal gift to myself. I promised as such.

Next then was the elf girl. I stopped and turned to her. I couldn't see her face. All I could see were the tips of her ears poking through the matted and dirty tresses of red that covered her head.

"Come to finish the job, have you?" She said with as much contempt as she could muster. I watched, staring down at her, as the human's blood stained the floor under us and felt its warmth through my boots. She looked up with a fierce defiance in her eyes. She was quite pretty actually. Her face was slender, and tapered. Her full lips were drawn up with her defiance. I could see the green glow in her eyes from the demonic magik that all Blood Elves tapped into.

I wasn't sure why I was so fascinated by her. Perhaps men will always be men even without blood pumping into the appropriate anatomy.

Her voice was full of stubborn bravado as her gleaming eyes met mine with even more hard-edged hatred than the human's had. "You'll look me in the eyes when..." Her voice faltered a moment and her eyes went from hatred to confusion. "Lor'Arthum?" I'd recognize that face anywhere..." The look in her eyes went from confusion to shock and apprehension. "What... What have they done to you, Lor'Arthum?"

I smirked; the look of shock on her face was priceless. Still, something about her voice… something about the sadness in her next words wore on me. "It's me, Eonys. You… don't remember me, do you?" She lowered and shook her head, and her voice was filled with bitter resentment and anger as she continued. "Blasted Scourge! They've tried to drain you of everything that made you a righteous force of reckoning. Every last ounce of good... Everything that made you a Blood Elf!" Her chains rattled as she slammed her fist hard into the floor in obvious frustration and looked back up to me with desperation in her eyes and blood on her face from where she pounded her fist into the puddle.

I gave her a very condescending look, and thrust the tip of my sword against the ground as I sneered at her. I could hear the cracking sound of the blood freezing as it touched the icy death energy stored in my blade. I snorted in amusement as I heard the gnome girl jump at the sudden noise my Rune Sword made. The elf reached out and just barely was able to reach the hand that rested on the hilt of my sword. I felt her flinch for a moment at the ice cold touch of my hand. The smirk left my face as I took half of a step back but didn't pull away. I frowned; something wasn't right. Something felt very familiar about all of this; something was trying to part the fog that was the back of my mind. She looked to my hand and then back to my eyes.

"Think, Lor'Arthum." She pressed with a desperate pleading in her watering eyes and in her quivering, almost hushed, voice. I actually leaned forward "Think back. Try and remember the majestic halls of Silvermoon City, where you were born. Remember the splendor of life, brother." I could see her try to smile at the memory she was recalling. "You were a champion of the Sin'dorei once! This isn't you." Her voice broke into tears as she cried forlornly. "It just isn't you."

Despite my mind's protests I found myself reflecting on her words as she cried and shook her head. _Lor'Arthum_. The name sounded as if it fit. It was true I once was the same as her, until the Lich King choose me for something far greater.

She had finally taken control of her crying and said in fierce determination. "Listen to me, Lor'Arthum. You must fight against the Lich King's control. He is a monster that wants to see this world, _**our world**_, in ruin. Don't let him use you to accomplish his goals." Her eyes hardened as she looked to me as if she believed the defiance that burned into her voice would infect me as well. "You were once a hero and you can be again. Fight, damn you! Fight his control!"

I pulled away from her then as I jerked my sword from the floor. I had let this gone on long enough. I could never betray my Master the Lich King. The living were a blight upon this world and needed to be purged. The chaos of life needed to make way for the order of the grave. Even if what she said about my former life was true, I am so much more than I once was. The Lor'Arthum this Eonys remembers was dead and thankfully so. I was Ritter Mortuus. That was the name I carry now, that was who I was reborn as. I picked up my helm and slid it back over my head. I was a Death Knight.

I glared at her and drew my bloodless lips back in a snarl and gripped my blade. She had to die. It was the Lich King's will. She stood in full opposition to all my Master's wishes. I brought my blade up and pulled my arm back ready to deliver the death strike. I, once again, drew my breath in and held it. Her green eyes looked to me defeated and utterly in mourning.

The blade lay still in the air as I paused. Me, who has upon my resurrection into the scourge, slaughtered families whole to their last infant daughter for their transgression of simply living in the shadow of the Lich King's machinations and yet, I hesitated before executing an enemy who would thwart my Master's plans. Eonys's, _when did she cease being simply blood elf inf my mind?_, eyes watered as a smile hesitantly formed on her lips as she mouthed 'Lor'Arthum' silently.

It was then that the loud booming voice of Knight Commander Plaguefist broke above the sound of the fire outside and the thunderous silence inside. "What's going on in there? What's taking so long, Ritter Mortuus!?" The moment between us had been broken and the connection severed as we both turned to the door at his voice, and my mind returned back to the reality of my situation and my near treachery. Eonys and I both looked back to each other. She drew in a long ragged sigh.

"There... There's no more time for me is there?" Her face grew resigned and a steely finality crept into her soft voice. "I'm done for. Finish me off. Remember that this world is worth saving. Remember Silvermoon Lor'Arthum!"

I never once showed my enemies any mercy before. I remember that much of my breathing days and I certainly know I showed no mercy since my rebirth before now. She had to die, but something needed to be said and I just didn't know what.

She saw my conflict and mistook it as a refusal and said in a hard voice. "Do it! Put me out of my misery or they'll kill us both!"

I gripped the hilt to my sword tightly in both hands as I looked into Eonys's eyes. The ice cold blade slid effortlessly through the Blood Elf's chest just enough to pierce her heart from between her ribs. The blade slid slowly ensuring the icy chill numbed any pain and kept her from bleeding out. Her eyes widened as she looked to me in a mix of gratitude and remorse. I could feel her heartbeat slow through the vibration in my sword. I don't know which shocked my un-beating heart more. That I had hesitated in my Master's will or that I hadn't refused to kill her.

I looked deeply in the familiar, yet unremembered girl's eyes as I suddenly knew what I had to say. I whispered "Remember me?" I needed her to. I can't recall a time when my voice sounded more hollow as I watched the life fade from her eyes and she passed into the ether with a ghost of a smile on her face. I couldn't tell if she heard what I asked of her. I laid her down gently on the ground after withdrawing my sword from her.

I turned to the left and looked down. Only the gnome was left. She was staring at me and Eonys's body in shock. I walked up to her glaring down at her. I towered over the little gnome girl and she stared up wide eyed and whimpered as she tried to back up as far from me as she could. She whined softly as her back hit the wall and she was left with no retreat.

Unlike killing the troll and human, killing the blood elf had caused death to leave a bad taste in my mouth. I kicked the human's head off to the side and slashed with my blade in two powerful strokes. If it were any other time I would have found the gnome's look of surprise and shock amusing as she gazed at the broken chains that dangled from her freed wrists and ankles. She looked to the door and looked back up to me and smiled as her eyes watered up with hope.

It was then that I reached down and clutched the diminutive soldier by her tunic and tossed her into the air effortlessly. Gripping my sword in both hands I spun around screaming. I thrust the blade forward when I completed my circle and had hit my mark perfectly. The gnome was perfectly impaled between the wall and me.

The blade cut deeply into her chest piercing a lung and skittered right past her heart and severed her spine. The wound was fatal but not instant. She stared at me wide eyed and in shock as she gasped like a murloc that has had its lungs stopped up. I always keep my promises.

I twisted the blade in her as she tried to scream out in agony but couldn't as she spat up blood. I lurched back with a grunt as I spun around and flung her hard next to the door way and right next to a surprised Knight Commander Plaguefist as he stood in the doorway. I imagine the appearance of my blade piercing the wall of the prison house brought him over.

He looked to me with approval as the gnome dropped to the floor a bloody mess as she gagged and gasped for another minute before laying still and, finally, silent. Commander Plaguefist walked over to me and laid an armored hand on my shoulder. His eyes appraising the executions I had carried out under his order. "How did it feel?" His hollow and abrasive voice echoed in the otherwise deathly silent room. I had noticed the fire was burning hotter and the screams outside had ceased.

I saw him smile from under his massive chin guard as he nodded approvingly, and he continued as if I had answered him. "Felt good, didn't it? You're not one of them anymore, Ritter Mortuus." He said as he gazed down at Eonys's body "You're Scourge. You're one of us. Forever..." He exited with a gesture for me to follow him. He was right it had felt good. The feeling of power as the gnome died. Feeling her warmth drain away into my blade, it was intoxicating.

As we exited the prison room, the stink of burning death was just as thick as it was fifteen minutes earlier when I had arrived to the chapel. I looked back to the prison room and imagined Eonys's body lying on the floor. I turned back to Plaguefist when I heard my name mentioned.

"…return to Thassarian at the Scarlet Tavern and let him know that Koltira's cry for vengeance has been answered. The Chapel of the Crimson Flame will be a pile of ashes in a matter of hours." He pumped a fist in the air in celebration and then paused in his reverie to grin back to me. "You're one cold blooded monster, Ritter Mortuus. I salute you, brother." He clapped me on the back as our armor made a loud metallic clank as he walked off to order a small group of Death Knight Initiates.

I could no longer manage to hide the look of distaste I had been holding in. My face curled into a snarl. I should be pleased. I had served my Master loyally, but Commander Plaguefist's compliment rendered me feeling unpleasant. His arrogance that I was like him grated me. I mounted my deathcharger, Heilig, and turned him in the direction of the Scarlet Tavern and paused in thought. I turned my mount around and rode towards the prison room and stopped by a cluster of geists who were approaching the prison. "State your business." I commanded of them.

I admired the practicality of geists. The Scourge recruited them from the gallows of the Scarlet Crusade. For all their talk of the Light, it seems the Scarlet Crusade does more to swell our ranks by their own action then the Scourge does by slaughtering them. One of them, who was a little more freshly dead and smarter than his comrades and thus the defacto pack leader, answered. "We bring dead to pit to make Scourge." He answered in the near mindless way lesser servants of the Lich King spoke.

I drew my sword and pointed to the geist in question. "There is a blood elf in there. You are to take her to The Ebon Hold to be risen as a Death Knight Initiate."

"But... Master Plaguefist ordered…" The geist started clearly confused.

"Do you dare defy the Lich King's will?" I cut off its protests quickly. Finally after a few seconds the geist nodded while it played with the noose that was still on its neck.

"Me obey and bring blood elf to Ebon Hold" and the geists scurried off to obey.

I turned about Heilig and rode off into the direction of the Scarlet Tavern. It wasn't a lie, I told myself. The Lich King wills that all life be destroyed. The mindless hordes of the Scourge were essential. They were the ultimate order, but the idea of Eonys, _Elf-Wench_ I vehemently corrected in my mind, of being nothing but a mindless shambler seemed… wasteful to me. She was more useful as a Death Knight. That was all, I told myself.

As I rode hard from the slaughter, I could feel the heat of the burning chapel on my back as Commander Plaguefist's words to me refused to leave my mind.

_"You're one of us…__**forever**__"_

**End**

**Yes The story is based off of a Death Knight Quest. The story is done, though I may broaden it to include it into a continuing saga of Ritter's Adventures. Hope you enjoyed!**


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